


A Thousand Little Things

by tsuristyle



Category: SMAP
Genre: Cell Phones, Denial, Glasses, M/M, Ramen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8929072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: He caught sight of his reflection. Bleary eyes, messy hair, the idol Nakai Masahiro at his least idol-like.
  --want to be with you personally, not just as--
He ignored it and went back to bed.(Set in 2003. Written September 2011.)





	

In the morning, Nakai woke to a headache and a throat full of dust. He'd shut the hotel curtains tightly the night before, thankfully, but even the dim glow of sunlight creeping in around the edges made his eyes water with pain. He hadn't even gotten staggeringly drunk; he couldn't even imagine how Ts--  
  
He sat up quickly, and stumbled into the bathroom.  
  
Glass of water. Piss. Glass of water. Pills. Glass of water.  
  
He caught sight of his reflection. Bleary eyes, messy hair, the idol Nakai Masahiro at his least idol-like.  
  
 _\--want to be with you personally, not just as--_  
  
He ignored it and went back to bed.  
  
He stayed there for as long as he could justify to himself, until finally at 11:59 he threw back the covers and sat up and set his feet firmly on the carpet. The headache had more or less gone away. He could think, now, although he really didn't want to.  
  
Maybe he could just stay in his room all day. He got up and stumbled into the bathroom again, took another piss, and brushed his teeth. His stomach rumbled as he stared at himself in the mirror.  
  
What would he say? Would he even remember? Maybe he wouldn't remember. Or if he did, maybe they could just laugh it off as the ramblings of a drunk man and nothing would change. Nothing had to change, right?  
  
 _Things were already changing,_ something in the back of his head told him, _and you're the one who started it. Didn't you_ want _this?_  
  
He spat toothpaste into the sink. His mouth still tasted terrible.  
  
  
Nakai managed to make it out of the hotel without seeing anyone he knew, and had lunch at a ramen shop around the corner.  
  
It was probably because he was still hungover, but whoever had invented ramen was a _genius_. The first bite, a perfect combination of soft noodles and salty seaweed-infused soup, was surely pure heaven condensed into the form of food. And the second bite, a slice of fatty pork juicy with delicious broth, ahh...  
  
The soup warmed him through and cleared his head, sweating out the last of the alcohol. He would go back to his room and watch TV, maybe read a little, take another nap--  
  
There was a buzzing noise from his pocket. Someone was calling him.  
  
He set the bowl down. He knew instinctively who it would be, but seeing the name lit up on his phone's display still sent a jolt down his spine. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and finished off the soup, trying to ignore the buzzing on his thigh.  
  
He _did_ remember, and now he was calling to apologize and take back what he'd said--  
  
Nakai paid and went back to his room. His phone rang a second time, and he ignored it a second time. It didn't ring a third time.  
  
  
He watched TV for the rest of the afternoon. He'd dug the book he'd brought out of his pack at first, but after about five minutes he'd realized that it wasn't the book he was concentrating on, and had opted for mindless numbing entertainment instead.  
  
He fell asleep watching some comedians try to guess the prices of vacuum cleaners and dreamed that SMAP was on a TV show, ranking the prices of bowls of ramen, except that they kept eating the ramen instead and they were actually in his hotel room and Tsuyoshi looked up at him and smiled and told him he'd saved a bowl for him--  
  
He woke up with a start, and realized that his phone was ringing. It was his manager.  
  
"There's going to be a quick meeting at 5 tonight, in room 603."  
  
"A meeting?"  
  
"They're thinking of making some changes for tomorrow, so they need to check with everyone."  
  
"Got it."  
  
Nakai hung up, and stared at his phone. The display told him he had two missed calls.  
  
 _\--not just as a member of SMAP--_  
  
He rolled over and buried his head under the pillow. It didn't make a difference.  
  
  
The instant he saw Tsuyoshi, he knew his bandmate remembered everything. Tsuyoshi nearly tripped over his own feet, his eyes wide with momentary panic, and flushed faintly pink. Nakai inspected his hands, acutely aware that Tsuyoshi was walking over to stand next to him.  
  
"Nakai-kun," Tsuyoshi said quietly. Nakai didn't look up. They were surrounded by people, what was he doing trying to talk _now_?  
  
"Nakai-kun," Tsuyoshi said again. "I'm sorry."  
  
Something in Nakai's chest sank. He didn't say anything.  
  
Tsuyoshi looked down at his feet, and the meeting began.  
  
  
Afterwards, Nakai lingered behind, talking with the staff, in hopes that Tsuyoshi would be dragged off to dinner somewhere by Shingo and he'd be able to go back to his hotel room peacefully. Unfortunately, Tsuyoshi wasn't the only one Shingo was planning on dragging away.  
  
"Nakai-kun, let's go eat!" Shingo gestured with a restaurant guide book. "There's a really good okonomiyaki place down the road."  
  
Tsuyoshi was looking at him hopefully. Nakai forced himself to look at the taller man instead. "I dunno, I was thinking of just getting room service today."  
  
"Room service?" Shingo stared at him in astonishment. "We're in _Osaka_ , and you're going to order _room service_? That's like going all the way to France and just eating sushi!"  
  
"But--"  
  
" _Okonomiyaki_ ," Shingo insisted, tugging on Nakai's arm. "C'mon, it's our last night in Osaka."  
  
He gave up and let himself be guided out of the room. On the other side of Shingo, Tsuyoshi laughed at something the younger man said, but it was subdued; he glanced over at Nakai, and Nakai looked away.  
  
Why did Tsuyoshi have to go and change things? They'd been fine the way they were. They joked together, they drank together, they slept together, and it was fun. Why did he have to try to make it into something more than that?  
  
Nakai stopped. "I'm gonna swing by my room first. Forgot my glasses." Maybe he could just--  
  
Shingo turned to follow him. "Can I use your bathroom? I gotta pee." Damn.  
  
There was awkward silence the moment Shingo shut the bathroom door. Nakai picked up his bag from the floor and dug through it until he remembered that he'd been trying to read earlier.  
  
Tsuyoshi quietly picked his glasses up from the nightstand. "Found them."  
  
Nakai didn't look at him. Tsuyoshi studied the glasses, turning them over in his fingers as if in thought.  
  
Shingo emerged from the bathroom. "Got your glasses?"  
  
Tsuyoshi didn't reply. Nakai reached over and grabbed the glasses from his hand. "Yeah. Let's go."  
  
Shingo's gaze flicked from one bandmate to the other, and he turned to lead the way out of the room. "Right, let's go! I'm _hungry_."  
  
Nakai moved to follow him. Tsuyoshi reached out suddenly and caught his sleeve. "Nakai--"  
  
The door shut behind Shingo, closing the two of them in the room together.  
  
They stood there, breathing, Tsuyoshi clinging to Nakai's sleeve.  
  
"Are you mad?" Tsuyoshi asked.  
  
Nakai looked at him, as calmly as he could. "No. Why would I be?"  
  
"Well-- you seemed--" Tsuyoshi fumbled for words. "I did keep you up really late."  
  
"I'm not mad," Nakai replied.  
  
"I'm sorry," Tsuyoshi said.  
  
Nakai looked down at Tsuyoshi's feet. His heart was beating ridiculously fast, pounding in his ears. "Right."  
  
"Nakai-kun--" Something hit an edge in Tsuyoshi's voice. He stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around Nakai's shoulders and hugged him tightly. "Please don't run away." He rested his chin on Nakai's shoulder, his hair falling forward. "I'll take what I said back if you want but I _meant_ it, I really did."  
  
 _Tsuyoshi looked up at him, smiling in drunken honesty. "I want to be with Nakai-kun." He leaned heavily on his elbow, intense fondness spilling across his features. "I want to be with you personally, not just as a member of SMAP."  
  
Nakai laughed. "That's ridiculous, why on earth would you want that?"  
  
"Because," Tsuyoshi replied matter-of-factly. "I love you."_  
  
Nakai had smiled tightly and escorted Tsuyoshi out of the room, and then had thrown out the rest of the liquor and cleaned the glasses and buried his head under the pillow until he'd fallen asleep, because those words were _terrifying_ and he didn't want to think about them. He'd started running the instant Tsuyoshi had said them, afraid of where they might lead, afraid of what would change if he listened to them.  
  
Of course, running away would change things, too. Instead of something more, there would be nothing at all.  
  
It was a question of which was more frightening.  
  
Nakai wrapped his arms around Tsuyoshi's waist, turning his face so that it was nearly hidden in Tsuyoshi's hair. "You idiot. Why did you have change things?"  
  
He leaned into him, breathing in the way his hair smelled-- it made Tsuyoshi sweat even more and got in the way during sex and he looked better in short hair anyway but if he ever cut it Nakai would miss that smell. There were a thousand little things he would miss, a thousand little things that, if he was honest with himself, he knew he wouldn't just be able to drown in a bowl of ramen.  
  
"Nakai-kun," Tsuyoshi said softly, and something in Nakai's chest squeezed. It was possible, maybe, that this meant far more to him than he'd realized. That things had changed already, had been changing from the start. He wasn't sure he was ready to think about that.  
  
Tsuyoshi tilted his head slightly. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes," Nakai said quickly. He thought about it. "No."  
  
Tsuyoshi shifted as though he was about to pull away, but Nakai tightened his arms. "Just-- give me a minute."  
  
His bandmate held him quietly, waiting patiently. Nakai wondered how long he'd been waiting. It used to be him, strangely certain what he wanted, waiting impatiently for Tsuyoshi to figure out what _he_ wanted.  
  
"I won't," Nakai said finally. "I won't run away."  
  
Through his arms, he felt Tsuyoshi's body relax slightly. "It's okay?"  
  
"Not yet," Nakai admitted, because it wasn't, not yet. "But don't take it back."  
  
"I won't," Tsuyoshi replied softly. He squeezed Nakai's shoulders, clutching him tightly for a moment, and Nakai let himself sigh into his bandmate's neck, because how could he ever imagine losing this?  
  
Tsuyoshi finally let go, smiling shyly. "We should probably go. Shingo's waiting."  
  
Nakai stepped back, and realized he was still clutching his glasses. He unfolded them and stuck them on Tsuyoshi's nose. "They look better on you."  
  
Tsuyoshi laughed and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. "I'll read the menu for you, then."  
  
  
There was a flurry of hasty scrambling the moment Nakai opened the door. He looked out to see Kimura and Goro leaning against the wall on either side, trying to appear nonchalant.  
  
"Yo," Shingo said, waving his guide book. He was seated on the floor across from the door. "You guys make up yet? I'm _starving_."  
  
Tsuyoshi appeared behind Nakai, and three pairs of eyes went from Nakai to the glasses perched on Tsuyoshi's nose. "Apparently," Kimura observed, smirking.  
  
Nakai glared at his bandmates. "What're _you_ two doing here?"  
  
"Eavesdropping," Shingo said matter-of-factly, before Kimura and Goro could reply. "Unlike yours truly, who was giving his dear bandmates some privacy."  
  
"By asking us 'What're they saying? What're they saying?', right." Goro rolled his eyes. "Very noble."  
  
"More noble than _you_." Shingo stood up, stretching. "Hey, now that the lovebirds have made up, wanna get okonomiyaki with us?"  
  
Kimura rested an elbow on Shingo's shoulder. "As long as they're not gonna start making out over the grill or anything."  
  
"Or feeding each other bites of food," Goro added, though he looked somewhat thoughtful at the prospect.  
  
"I can promise that will not happen," Nakai snapped. "Because I will be ordering _room service_."  
  
"Nakai-kun," Tsuyoshi said softly, poking him in the side. Nakai looked back; his bandmate was faintly pink, smiling in embarrassment. "Please come with us?"  
  
Nakai felt his ears redden. So much for dignity. "Oh, _fine_." He let himself be led out the door. "Maybe we _should_ make out over the grill, just so they'll shut up about it."  
  
"No thanks, I prefer my appetite the way it is," Shingo said, grinning. "Now let's _go_ already!"  
  
As they headed down the hall, Nakai glanced sideways at Tsuyoshi. His bandmate was smiling openly, humming to himself with his hands in his pockets. It was completely, utterly normal, and he thought to himself that maybe that voice at the back of his head had been right; maybe, just maybe, this was what he'd wanted all along. Tsuyoshi glanced back at him quizzically, and Nakai looked away, smiling despite himself. He wasn't certain yet. But it was close enough for now.


End file.
